Donald: Okay. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Where do you guys think you're going? Did you forget about the solar flare?

Chase: What do you expect us to do? Bionics can't stop a solar flare.

Donald: No, but I have something that can.

R.V.: Identity authorized.

Donald: Welcome to the Davenport Industries mobile action lab.

Leo: Very impressive, Big D. You're the master of the ta-da moment!

Donald: ♪ Ta-da ♪ I call her the ugly lady because it's what's on the inside that counts. You guys will launch the rocket just like in your training simulations. It will block the solar flare by releasing a cloud of heavy gas into the atmosphere.

Bree: Ooh.

Adam: Cool!

Bree: Sweet!

Adam: You're goin' down, sun!

Donald: This supercomputer is calculating the precise time that you need to launch the rocket. It could be minutes, it could be hours. You'll just have to wait and see.

Bree: In here? But we're supposed to go to the beach.

Donald: Yeah, and I was supposed to be six-foot-one. Life is full of disappointments.

Chase: Great. So we all have to pay the price for another short guy with an axe to grind.

Donald: Look, guys, focus. It takes all three of you to initiate the sequence. Once the alert sounds, you'll have a 2-hour window to launch the rocket before the flare becomes unstoppable. Got it?

Tasha: You know you're not supposed to drink soda. It makes you all jumpy. Give me that. Now!

( crackling and whirring )

Donald: I knew I should have sprung for the whole six-pack.

Leo: Well, I'm sorry, Big D. Looks like I'm gonna have to check in with 'em the old-fashioned way-- with my feet, my face, and a whole lot of this.

Donald: Yeah. Just hurry back, will ya? The only reason I'm letting you go in the first place is so you stop doing that anywhere near me.

. . .

Leo: Hey, super sibs. How's the mission going?

Adam: This stinks! We're gonna waste the whole stupid day in this stupid lab waiting for this stupid computer. It's all just so... dumb!

Leo: Why don't you take turns coming to the beach with me?

Chase: We can't. The launch procedure requires all three of us.

Adam: Mmm, but if there are three of us plus one, then two can stay and two can go until we need three, and then one can stay and one can run and get the one who's having fun with the other one. Wait. Somebody check my math.

Chase: He's right. Someone pat him on the head and give him a biscuit.

Chase: Oh, yeah? And what are we gonna tell him? "Hey, remember that really easy mission where all we had to do was sit around and wait? Well, guess what-- we totally blew it, and the world is toast. Oopsie!"

( siren squawks )

Beach Sheriff: Freeze!

Chase: Officer, we'd like to report a crime. Someone stole our R.V. from this spot, and it's super critical that we get--

Beach Sheriff: If you want your R.V. back, you're gonna have to cough up 200 clams.

Adam: Okay. But does it have to be clams? 'Cause, personally, I'm more of a shrimp guy.

( siren squawks )

Chase: You guys... that "car alarm" was the alert tone telling us to launch the rocket!

Leo: Wait. So that means we have under an hour to collect $200, get the mobile lab back, stop the solar flare, and wrestle a shark. Oh, what? You're bionic, and we're at the beach. I'd like to do one fun thing today.

Bree: We need to tell Mr. Davenport. He'll give us the money to get the R.V. back.

Chase: No. No way. We can still fix this. Come on, I know how we can get the money fast.

Bree: Chase, get back here. No one's gonna pay to see you wrestle a shark.

. . .

Tasha: Wow, Donald, I'm impressed. You have almost made it to lunch without using any of your gadgety gizmos.

Bree: Okay, do I have a volunteer? Nope? Okay, looks like it's you, big guy. Okay, people, keep your eye on the shell. Where is it? Nope. And look what's over here. Bam! Your driver's license.

( applause )

Bree: You know, I never would have guessed you were bald under there.

Leo: Her flying fingers are quicker than the human eye, but it's actually a simple trick that's not that impressive once you know how it's done. And last but not least, let's keep it going for the amazing Chase, who will... what can you do that won't bore people?

Chase: I got this. Now, if someone could kindly give me a prime number with at least four digits, I will mathematically extrapolate--

Leo: Great job! Let's give him a hand! Yeah! Adam, go make another bunny. Make a bunny.

( siren squawking )

Beach Sheriff: Great show, little man.

Chase: Thank you.

Beach Sheriff: I was talkin' to him, dude.

Chase: Oh.

Beach Sheriff: You totally bombed, bro. Now, unless you dudes want to shoot the curl on a longboard of hurt, you'd best show me your performance permits, like, right now.

Adam: We don't have permits. We're busted.

Chase: Oh, relax. He's wearing flip-flops, and his squad car has handlebars. He's not even a real cop.

. . .

Chase: Yet he has a real jail. Okay, there's only one thing left for us to do-- We have to find a way to get in touch with Mr. Davenport fast.

Adam: Uh, I'll just call him. Davenport!

( laughing )

Adam: I can't believe that worked!

Donald: I did not steal anything. That woman committed assault with a deadly floatie! Aah!

Donald: Yeah, it is. Two hundred dollars to get my R.V. back, two hundred dollars for disorderly conduct, and a hundred dollars for stealing a cell phone. What were you thinking?

Leo: That was you!

Donald: There is a solar flare headed towards us right now!

Adam: Ahh, I'm freakin' out!

Donald: Look, don't panic. In simulations, you guys have launched this rocket in two minutes, and you've still got...

R.V.: Launch window closes in 60 seconds.

Donald: ...half that. Okay, we're gonna have to work together. Adam, pick up that rocket. Leo, find the launch keys. Bree, console. And, Chase, you're gonna have to help me figure out the launch vectors. The vectors are corrupt in every system. The computer isn't fast enough to recalculate them.

Chase: Bree, how many words can you type in a minute?

Bree: All of 'em.

Chase: Right. I knew that. Okay, type this in.

R.V.: Thirty seconds.

Chase: Launch to 60,000 feet... Then change altitude to generate negative Q alpha within 4% of predicted trajectory, and then fire rocket thrusters to initiate...

( indistinct remark )

Chase & Bree: Done.

Adam & Donald: Done.

R.V.: Launch window closes in ten... nine...

Donald: Leo, the launch key.

Leo: I-I found 'em, I found 'em.

Donald: They have to be turned at the same time.

Leo: Where's the other keyhole?

Donald: Over there.

R.V.: ...four... three... two...

Leo: Aaahhh!

R.V.: ...one.

Donald: Everything looks good. It's on target.

Adam: Did it work?

R.V.: Solar flare neutralized.

Donald: It worked! We did it!

Bree: Okay, now that that's finally taken care of, can we please go have fun at the beach?

Donald: Absolutely.

Bree & Chase: Yes!

( Klaxon blares )

Donald: Oh, no!

Leo: What now?!

Donald: Nothing. I'm just messing with you. It's my car alarm.

Chase: Really?

. . .

Tasha: Oh, hey, guys. Oh, I must have dozed off. Did you all have fun today?

Chase: Sure did.

Leo: Yeah, tons of fun.

Adam: We weren't in jail, that's for sure.

Tasha: Great. Well, I have had my fill of fun for the day, so... let's go home.

Bree: Wha-- Go home? But we didn't get to do anything fun yet.

Tasha: Wait. If you guys haven't had fun all day, then what have you been doing?